


When Gravity Fails

by devil_t_rex



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Although everything I know is either from my fetus-level textbook and Michio Kaku, And Tony Stark engineer of snark, Comic Book Science, Conflicting timelines, I Tried, Just Bruce Ban the Science Man, M/M, Multi, Science, TO BE, You Go Michio Kaku, and chemistry I guess, and physics, and the LHC, because I like physics :), but - Freeform, doing science, just loaded with pop-sci references, rockets, scientific things forever, scientifically accurate, some chapters canon compliant, songfic kinda, stupid science jokes, tbt to my infatuation with the ILC, written by a high school student who knows literally nothing about uni so don't kill me pls, written by a high school student who knows nothing about academia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-09 08:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devil_t_rex/pseuds/devil_t_rex
Summary: Tony and Bruce try and build a space centre in the politically charged atmosphere almost synchronous to the Manhattan Project. Rockets, etc, stuff happens. I can't classify this as a purely historical AU because anachronisms abound.Peter is Tony's protege a.k.a the plucky young scientist, Amadeus your very smart engineer, and Shuri a calculating and hypothesising supernova.---I tried to make it scientifically accurate because what is science boyfriends without science????boyfriends?pff-





	1. Guaranteed Chemistry

 

Bruce frowned into the set of problems he’s been working on for approximately eight hours, taking regular breaks to sip some water, get some food, and clear his vision of the integrals and vectors he’s been wrestling with. They were all written in that stupid LaTex font and his room _was_ getting mustier and darker by the season but the questions seemed all the more fascinating the deeper he dug into them, the more he fell into the distraction of the Standard Model. A slight breeze wheezed its way into his room and he looked up to see Tony, bedraggled, eyes devoid of sleep. He half-slammed the paper in his hands onto Bruce’s wooden desk. His usually impeccably dry clothes were sodden with rain. It was too cold for snow. Bruce licked his lips as he quickly skimmed through the manuscript whilst Tony picked up Bruce’s copy of _Griffiths_ _Introduction to Elementary Particles_ and browsed through the problems.

 

“There’s something missing in it,” Tony admitted. “I told the department that I wanted to build- and could fund- a functional particle accelerator.”

Bruce’s eyebrows quirked upwards. “Like the LHC near Geneva?”

“Was thinking of a linac,” Tony said. “It seemed more appropriate. Instead, your _asshole_ of a physics professor-”

Bruce frowned, “-Professor Cargill’s not an asshole, Tony, she’s really helpful.”

Tony barraged on, “- _kindly_ told me to make a cloud chamber in my bedroom.”

Bruce stifled a laugh. As much as Tony was a mathematical prodigy, there were hours in which he laboured against physics’ theories, preferring to get his hands in application and design, much like the quintessential engineer he aspired to be. _But better,_ Bruce thought. He himself was more comfortable in theory but preferred experimental results when possible, and a particle accelerator that rivalled or surpassed the current technologies that they had available- Bruce was more than willing to melt against the notion.

 

“So I told Professor Cargill that ‘ _Banner and I have plans to construct a particle accelerator in the near future, close to the campus or not’_. She told me that she hoped I had thirty years more of my attitude and that maybe you and I should get married.” He said the last few words quickly and pointedly.

 

Bruce tried to hide the blush that was forming in his cheeks. Right. A linear particle accelerator in the middle of a desert- his mind immediately conjured New Mexico’s, reminiscent of the sets Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman would blow watermelons up in. Images of his and Tony’s partnership extending to something more than the comfort of giving each other facts and figures of the latest (mathematical) models and cold mac and cheese. 

 

“I wrote this letter to my Dad,” Tony continued. “Obviously, nothing’s free,” he skimmed Bruce’s lips, “but I’m pretty sure I have thirty years of being the Pierre to your Marie.”

  
  



	2. t=5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *enters like in the ROom* Ohai.   
> I haven't strayed from the whole sci-fi thing ((labelling it sci-fi because only Reed Richards knows how wrong this is))   
> This is a weird amalgamation of things. I'm aiming to have 5 chapters done all in all. Hence the title. 5 seconds? 5 hours? 5 years? lol idk. It ends with liftoff.  
> Bruce and Tony want to build a space centre all to themselves because Tony has money and Ross wants to know what scientific things Bruce has been doing. Given the relationship between rocket science and the military I kinda wanna explore what would happen if they showed aspirations of building and launching rockets to space in the same time period as the Manhattan Project. They're not synchronous, though. I just kinda stole the historical atmosphere.  
> Amadeus is probably too OOC. But I made him like maths, so that, I think, is a little okay.

Bruce remembered the hum of the radio and the spit of the oil, cackling the bacon to life in the heavy iron skillet; Betty’s sundress fluttering in the cool wind and balmy sun of suburbia. The walls of General Ross’ two-storied house was painted a vibrant Paris green. He remembered walking up the steps; each of his legs giving way as he told Betty that he found a job in New Mexico and that he promised to see her often; in time intervals just long enough, and that he’d express his love for her in assorted letters that would end up in her metallic mail. She looked at him sordidly; her face devoid of makeup- signalling that the General was present- and told him that she hoped he’d fulfil his promise. Once a month, he promised her, once a month, he’d send a letter filled to the margins with technical details and what he had instead of the groceries she’d buy him. That he wasn’t drinking coffee to poison his kidneys and that he received enough sleep so that he’d have the energy to conduct the research on the rockets that he’d send. 

Bruce reminisces and sipped another cup from the same bitter pot he was certain Amadeus forgot to wipe down. The entire lab was packing up all of the equipment- from the notebooks to the dust filled suits and jackets they’d lived in for the past two years. Not a letter home, not a letter to Betty. Bruce chuckled darkly to himself- they told him he was lucky. He had a small secluded shack in New Mexico and a girl to marry back home. Bruce wondered if, after the two years he’d backed out of the letters he meant to write, Betty would still be patiently waiting, with her now finished microbiology degree. He’d kept all the letters she’d sent back and he noticed the trend of their ever-decreasing mass. There wouldn’t be much to write if the recipient didn’t respond. 

Soft music clouded his brain again as Amadeus waltzed through the door with a cardboard box filled with his own notebooks and some glassware from the chemistry lab. He grinned widely as he saw Bruce swivelling in his chair. Amadeus had turned the radio on, which, Bruce was all too happy to argue, did not relieve his mind of thoughts about going home and anxiety over his relationship with Betty, who endorsed the use of their then newly purchased radio day and night. 

“Good morning,” Bruce said evenly. Amadeus flashed a wide grin before settling his things down on the pristine white bench, “you’ve packed up.”   
Amadeus took out a Rubik’s cube and started playing with it. “I’m excited to move to California,” he told Bruce plainly. “Can you imagine it? Our rocket research-” he spread his arms, “-but with more funding.”   
Of course Bruce could. He was a scientist by trade. Visualising strange masses of objects drop to the ground was a specialty picked up after years of intuition and staring at projectile motion. Bruce coughed. “Haven’t you got an equation to solve?” He asked Amadeus, who stopped playing with the cube.   
He laughed. “Yes,” Amadeus said. “But I can do that on the bus trip there. Anyway. Stark said that we might get our own ship all the way there. Epitome of luxury for the world’s best rocket scientist.”   
Bruce rolled his eyes. There were others that held that title- von Braun one of them, Korolev another, and Tsiolkovsky’s work breathtaking. The latter didn’t deserve to have his potential theory confined to the journals. Tony was his friend; his colleague, and the co-creator of the new space centre that promised freedom away from the restraints of General Ross’ hankering. 

 

—

Tony’s laboratory was a mess. He was striving to erect a fully functional space for the manufacture of towering hunks of metal designed to go into an area nature abhors. He carried with him a copy of Robotics Economy, a plucky young magazine that catalogued the electronics shops in the area. A full bundle of capacitors at Billy’s Circuit Supplies would set Tony a paltry twenty cents, and, according to Robotics Economy, the proprietor was a kind old man who did not hesitate to share an ice cream with the patrons. Tony sighed. There wasn’t any point in buying parts that were more expensive due to a particular brand slapped on the cover. He decided that Billy’s Circuit Supplies would be sufficient in his hobbling of a second Ultron. Bruce was arriving. Tony slipped on a dress shirt and trousers before hurrying down the steps. Pepper held the door precariously as Bruce walked in, his shoulders slumped and his shirt wrinkled. He looked every inch the sad, brilliant scientist Tony remembered. He flashed a smile. Now, the proper, exhilarating scaffolding of tenders and designs could begin.


End file.
